


Identity Theft

by hollydermovoi



Series: Sing the Songs [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Vikings (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:46:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollydermovoi/pseuds/hollydermovoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire was the alcoholic boyfriend of political terrorist Enjolras. When he agreed to testify against Javert, the obsessed Chief of Police, he was placed in Witness Protection. Enjolras refused to come with him, saying only that France needed him more than Grantaire did, leaving Grantaire broken hearted. He’s moved to Norway, where he becomes a teacher and friend to Bjorn and Gyda, whose beautiful parents take an interest in him, or rather, the man he’s become: Athelstan. Cue awkwardness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He'd known, deep down that if Enjolras had to choose, France would come first. France _always_ came first with Enjolras.

This didn't mean it didn't hurt any fucking less to be proven right.

All he'd done was report the Police Chief's awkward-stalking-bordering-on- harassment towards Marius' girl's father, and he'd landed up here, in Witness Protection, with a new name, a new job, a new country, all the booze he could drink...but no Enjolras.

For the first time since he was twelve, Grantaire, now known as Athelstan didn't want to drink away his problems.

Instead, he closed his eyes and prayed, ignoring the tears that ran down his face.

*

He was a quiet one, the new counselor at her children's school. Quiet, and handsome, with his wide blue eyes and curly black locks. He was also very, very boring, if one were to believe Bjorn. But even Bjorn, caught in the throws of puberty, was forced to stop grumbling the second he'd seen the "Priest", as he scathingly referred to him, tease Gyda into smiling.

Her little girl hadn't smiled at anyone except for her family since her boyfriend had tried to rape her at prom, and even with them, it was rare. To see her so unrestrainedly happy at the quiet man's playful actions was a rare treat, and without even thinking about it, Lagertha found herself inviting him to dinner that very night. He'd tried to refuse, but she hadn't let him. She'd texted Ragnar to ensure his best behavior, which he promised to be on. 

It had taken him all of two minutes after saying hello to invite the Priest (she'd forgotten to get his name) to join them in their bed that night. She'd been quite sure he'd leave, offended, and never talk to either of them again, let alone their children, but he surprised her by throwing his head back and laughing. "Sorry," he said to Ragnar, sounding truly apologetic "I would- you're both quite gorgeous, and I'm quite flattered, but I have a boyfriend, and he wouldn't be O.K. with it. He believes quite strongly in monogamy once you manage to dig past his patriotism and into his heart. I hope I haven't offended you..." his sentence trailed off as he bit his lip worriedly but she and Ragnar were quick to assure him that he hadn't.

Through the course of the evening she learned three things about the Priest: His name was Athelstan, he didn't drink (recovering alcoholic, he'd explained apologetically), and his boyfriend absolutely **did not** deserve him like Ragnar and she did.


	2. Chapter 2

That dinner was the start of a friendship that _almost_ matched the ones he'd left behind in France.

Almost.

He learned that Ragnar and Lagertha were both quite fierce fighters, often participating in cage fights when Ragnar wasn't tending bar and Lagertha wasn't teaching art classes at the local University. They didn't show affection with quite the ease that Joly did, preferring to smack him affectionately instead of watching cheesy movies and cuddling on the couch (though to be fair, he'd never asked if they'd be interested in doing that). Though they were Atheists, they let him say Grace at their table, something even Enjolras had scoffed at given his lack of sobriety, and he missed the teasing. Lagertha lacked the porcelain beauty of Cosette, Ragnar was more of a wild animal than even Cosette's dad had been, and neither Gyda or Bjorn quite measured up to Gavroche's mischievous and rebellious nature.

He liked them anyway. Most nights, he ended up grading papers in Ragnar's bar, or tutoring Gyda on the mandatory passages of the Bible the students were supposed to analyze. If he was persuaded into doing so, he'd tell them stories of the protests he really only half remembered, of his friend's courageousness in their protests given the Government's willingness to shoot at them, or attempt to blow them up. Of course he changed all their names, and added just a touch too much drama to the stories. Wouldn't do for a pair of Norwegian children, fierce as they and their parents were, to know everything about the Barricade Boys, mention it to the wrong people and wind up causing his friends a lot of trouble. After all, the Government was still hoping that he'd give them this information, and he wasn't stupid enough to assume that he'd live very long if he desired to do so.

Which he didn't.

Most days.

*

About two months later, they still hadn't met Athelstan's boyfriend. Ragnar would suspect he was made up, except Gyda had been to the Priest's house once to pick up a turkey baster, and she'd seen pictures of the two of them kissing. According to her, the mysterious boyfriend was taller than Athelstan, with coppery curly hair, and was nowhere near as attractive as either her Da or her Mom. She also gave them a name: Eric Rass. But even Floki, with his ties to both the mob and the police could find nothing on the man, which meant that either (and despite evidence that strongly suggested otherwise) this Eric bloke really didn't exist, or he was the sort to not the cross either sides of the law.

Ragnar couldn't help but hate the other just a little more for the later. After all, if Athelstan's type was a squeaky clean monogamous bloke, then what chance did either Lagertha or himself have? After all, here they were calling him at 2 am from a Police Station, not so he could bail them out (Floki was arranging their release for the next evening), but rather so that he'd look after Gyda and Bjorn until they got out. He'd never actually envisioned Athelstan saying yes so quickly, but the Priest was quick to assure him that it was no trouble "Eric is away on business," he explained "and it's much easier to stay sober when someone's around." Ragnar'd laughed. "There's the strong possibility that the company of my children for more than an hour will drive you to break that sobriety my friend. It has with everyone else." Athelstan muttered something about them not being remotely as annoying as some kid named Gavin, before assuring Ragnar once more that it was no problem and hanging up.

*

Despite how wonderful he was with them in short doses at reasonable hours, Lagertha couldn't help but worry over how well Athelstan was coping with Bjorn and Gyda at this hour. Floki had somehow fucked up his arrangements so that not only were they not getting out, they were staying longer. She'd objected, and told the cop manning the desk that her kids were alone and he'd told her they could "arrange something" while eyeing his crotch pointedly. 

That was a definite no.

Floki had, however, managed to secure her another phone call, so she'd called Athelstan only to have him reassure her that he had it covered. She'd fully expected to come home to the burned husk of a home when they finally got out, but that was not the case. Their kids ran to greet them from their intact house, full of kisses and hugs and one more fact about Athelstan that Lagertha never would have guessed.

He sang.

Apparently, every time Bjorn and Gyda had so much as thought about misbehaving, he'd sang them in French and English (she'd already known he was multi-lingual) and taught them the naughty words their language teachers forbade them from learning.

He refused to sing for Ragnar and her though, saying that he didn't know any songs that quite fit their taste, and they were once again, left wanting more.


	3. Chapter 3

He never should have fucking sang, but Gyda reminded him of Eponine, fragile and desperate for love despite her failings, and the best way to cheer Eponine up was to get drunk and go do Karaoke. He was steadfast in his newfound sobriety, but he could do this, he could sing for her.

It had hurt him to do so, and for the first time since becoming Athelstan, he wished to drink. Instead he turned to prayer, and when that didn't work he did something _very_ stupid.

He made a phone call.

*

The school year had been over for six weeks and they'd seen neither hide nor hair of Athelstan. Gyda went back to her wide-eyed solemnity, Bjorn sulked even harder, Ragnar purposely antagonized the police and Legartha tried to find some way to coax the Priest back into their lives, without any luck.

Until his air conditioning broke down, and he called, begging for a cool place to sleep until it was fixed. When he showed up, he was very changed. His hair was greasy, and tangled, his eyes and cheeks sunken, but Lagertha smelled no alcohol on his breath. So he wasn't drunk. Just depressed, because as it turns out, Eric had ditched him "For good this time" he'd said brokenly when prodded, for some skank named Francie.

It was really hard to project faces of sympathy when all they really wanted to do was shout for joy, something he almost immediately called them out for, before asking timidly if the offer was still open. That night, they made him scream so loudly in pleasure, the children thought they were attacking him, which they weren't, though the very thought had them all laughing almost hysterically.

In fact, seeing as Athelstan was very much theirs, and they were not to be fucked with (something on which both the mob and cops were forced to agree upon) they were unpleasantly surprised when someone else decided to hurt him.


	4. Chapter 4

Athelstan had officially decided that he was two people in the same body. Grantaire was the sort to break the rules put into place for his own safety to call his friends and see how they were doing; Athelstan was the sort to pray after doing so. Both attracted entirely different people: Grantaire attracted Enjolras, with his fiery passion for politics and his almost methodical way of making love, Athelstan attracted the Lothbrok’s with their tattoos and passion for fighting, who made fucking fun.

He couldn’t really decide whom it was who’d decided on sleeping with the Lothbrok’s in the first place, but he could honestly say that neither Athelstan nor Grantaire regretted doing so. If it weren’t for Bjorn and Gyda, he’d have told his new lovers everything long ago, how Javert had sent his cops to harass Cosette at school, how the Barricade Boys had decided that enough was enough, and how he’d voluntarily gone to the police himself before Marius or Enjolras could do so. He might have been smashed out of his fucking mind at the time, he’d known that whoever turned themselves in wouldn’t come back, that the government would wring all the information out of them that they could before they disappeared them. Even now he was forced to talk to Interpol weekly as Agent What’s-her-face and Who-is-he-again tried to seduce and intimidate him into giving up his friends and their plans. 

Kudos to them for trying. Not only was he not interested, he really was happy with Ragnar and Legartha, so happy that he was willing to withhold the whole truth from them, just to keep their children safe, or so he told Eponine in their completely-illegal-biweekly-Skype-calls. She’d just raised one eyebrow, expressing without words that the justification just wasn’t working for her.

Yeah, it wasn’t really working for him either.

*

Bjorn was trying really hard to like the soft-spoken religious man for his parent’s sake, but when he’d overheard the Priest sweet talk some girl in French, he knew his suspicions that Athelstan was hiding something were right, and despite knowing that he’d break his parents hearts he went and told them everything he’d heard.

*  
He’d come to the Lothbrok’s house after one of his mandatory meetings with Interpol and came face-to-face with two furious lovers and one smugger than usual Bjorn, and he knew it was over. “Is what my son said true? Tell me that he heard you wrong, and that he didn’t hear you telling some woman that you love her in French. Please.” Said Lagertha, in a rare moment of vulnerability.

*  
“I can’t do that Lagertha. Did you hear me say this? Pourquoi êtes-vous si il vous aime? Je t'aime Eponine, et je ne changerais pas une chose à propos de vous.*” When Bjorn nodded solemnly, the Priest looked down and smiled slightly. “Well, he’s right, I did tell Eponine that I love her, but-“ Ragnar held up one hand, cutting him off, eyes blazing in fury. “Get your stuff, and get out.” Athelstan’s mouth dropped open, and he looked like he was about to argue, but something dark ran through his eyes, and he snapped his jaw shut and nodded. It only took him fifteen minutes to pack everything he’d moved into their house so far and leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Why do you care if he likes you? Eponine I love you, and I would not change a thing about you. 
> 
> More to come soon :)


	5. Chapter 5

It’d been nearly a month since he’d seen either the Lothbroks or his friends in France. The Lothbrok’s because of course Ragnar was being stupid and refused to answer his emails, and school was still out, so he didn’t see Gyda anymore either. He could live without seeing Bjorn. Not only had the boy jumped to conclusions prematurely ruining the healthiest relationship he’d ever been in (and wasn’t that sad, seeing as it was based on nothing but lies), but he’d gone and destroyed the only picture he’d had of Eponine and him together. He wasn’t supposed to bring anything with him that could tie him to his past, but how could he leave these precious remnants of his family behind? Because that’s what the Barricade Boys were to him, his idealistic and music loving family, who had no cares for their own health and safety. He’d smuggled out 3 pictures- one of him and Enjolras kissing, which was on display in his counter at home (he hid it when Interpol visited), one of the entire group, which was hidden in the hollow crucifix Jehan had given him as a gag gift one year that he’d warn, first to prove that he could, and then to keep his family and faith always with him. The last photo had been in his wallet- he’d shown it to Bjorn briefly, just as an example of how beautiful French woman could be, and Bjorn hadn’t seen the beauty that was the sister of his heart, had in fact scoffed at it, and her name, and had destroyed it out of spite.  


  
See, Eponine’s (and Gavroche’s) parents, were mean spirited people who cared only for money, and how much she could bring them. For years, they’d fed her crush for Marius, and had kicked her out when Marius had become engaged to Cosette. She’d been homeless for only about two weeks before Enjolras had recognized from their course on French uprisings, and she’d couch surfed till Coufreyrac had taken her in as a roommate and given her a job at the bookstore he’d inherited from his father. They’d started dating after several months of fairly obvious pining, and he was even cool with Gavroche, was, in fact, more of a father to the tosser than Monsieur Thénardier had ever been.  


  
Ah, Monsieur Thénardier. Even Eponine, romantic that she was, could not find a single redeemable feature about her father (or her mother, but that’s a different story). Athelstan was even more brutal on him than she dared to be, he’d admitted openly that Monsieur Thénardier was the root of all evil amongst his friends. Even if one were to overlook the way he’d turned Cosette’s father in to the Chief Inspector several times over a twenty year period, or how he’d treated Cosette while she’d been in his care, or how he treated his own children, there was also the fact that Monsieur Thénardier had over heard him talking to Eponine via Skype and had recognized his voice, drunk and high as he’d been, and Athelstan fully expected that the man had reported him to Javert’s supporters in the Force.  


  
After all, it wasn’t solely because of Interpol’s interest in the Barricade Boys that he’d had to move from France all the way to Norway. Many within the French Police Force, and indeed in France’s parliament had loved Javert and his obsession with the law/ tenacious following of petty thieves and wanted Grantaire dead.  


And to people like that, it didn’t matter what they had to do, or had to go through, to get what they wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

The school year resumed, and Gyda talked to him for the first time since the Priest had left but only to inform him that what he'd done had scared Athelstan away from the school altogether. This did not make Bjorn Lothbrok happy _at all_. Sure, he'd liked it at first, not having to sit through Grace, or taking care not to blaspheme. At first, things had been better. But shortly, he noticed that his sister hated him, treating him to the longest silence treatment that he'd ever been treated to in his entire thirteen years, and that his parents were miserable. And then he wasn't happy anymore. He noticed that he wanted the Priest back after about two weeks, so seeing as this was his fault, he went to fix things, taking Gyda with him.

There was only one light on in the apartment, which should've sent warning lights of in his head, because the Priest preferred natural light if it was available, but they were so relieved to see a sign that he was _there_ that they didn't think to question it. The Priest was a kind, trusting man, so they didn't even question the front door being unlocked, and his reluctant acceptance of their parents intrest in fighting had never implied that he was friends or acquaintances with criminals so when they got into his apartment and found him broken and bleeding on the floor, they were very surprised.

Not as surprised as when a gun was placed to their heads though. 

*

It was a Friday around 5 that they got a strange phone call. A woman, begging to talk to Grantaire, switching nervously from English to French till some guy grabbed the phone from her, and introduced himself as Enjolras, leader of the revolution. And in that moment they knew that Athelstan had _lied_ , but that wasn't important because Enjolras- _Eric Ras_ \- told them that Athelstan was in danger and they were running out the door, only to come face to face with three squad cars full of cops, all with guns aimed towards their heads.

With that, the Lothbrok's found themselves arrested and dragged off with Athelstan- _Grantaire_ -, ending up in a cell with their scared and bruised children, waiting for Grantaire to wake up


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait. I know how to continue this now, and will hopefully finish this up soon

When Grantaire opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that everything hurt. The second thing he noticed was that people were speaking Norwegian, shouting his name. "Grantaire! Er du ok?*" the woman said.

Did he know her?

He didn't _think_ he knew her, though she was quite beautiful. And though he couldn't really tell what she was asking, but he found himself replying anyway.

"Jeg trog jeg vongt*," he groaned, and huh, that was weird. Since when did he speak Norwegian?

He was about to ask the pretty lady- or her pretty male friend, or the kids in her cell (and seriously, what kind of assholes locked up kids?) that very question when the door flew open, revealing a man he'd never seen before. Apparently the pretty lady knew him, because she sucked in a horrified gasp and said softly _"Rollo."_

Whoever this Rollo was, he was an ass, because the very first thing he did was let loose with a bunch of Norwegian, and he could tell from the look on the ladies face (and that on her companions as well) that whatever it was, it wasn't friendly.

He decided he wasn't going to let this man know that apparently, he spoke Norwegian. So he looked him right in the eye and told him what he'd perceived until about five minutes ago to be the God's Honest Truth.

"Je suis désolé, je ne parle pas norvégien. Je ne parle que français.*"

He almost grinned outright at the following stream of curses, but he didn't. After all, he wasn't supposed to recognize what they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Are you alright  
> I think I'm hurt  
> I'm sorry, I don't speak Norwegian. I only speak French


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my purposes, the Lothbroks speak both Norwegian and English fluently, and only Gyda has any fluent grasp on French.

Ragnar watched his brother, eyes burning with anger, as with the help of some minion he set up a Skype call of all thing. Athel-Grantaire seemed to be regaining consciousness, his blue eyes twinkling mischieviously as he taunted Rollo and the others in French, Gyda helpfully translating for them. He feared for Athelstan- not Grantaire, as it seemed the French side of his lover was more than capable of caring for himself, but rather for the Priest, the man who'd shared his and Lagertha's bed.

He refused to even entertain the possibility that they were in actuality the same man. They were far too different for that to possibly be true.

*

These Norwegians were quite possibly _the_ most incompetent people in authority that he'd ever met- and he'd spent two years abroad in America. He didn't understand why they weren't using their other prisoners to make him comply when the Barricade Boys were well known to take pity on innocents who were being threatened, even if they didn't know them. It seems that he jumped to conclusions far too fast however, because they left him alone with the others for a bit, and the girl asked him haltingly in French if he was ok. He was trying to reassure her that he'd get them out unharmed when the screen the man named Rollo had set out started to blink, and a Skype call flickered to life. _He knew that face._

"M. Threnadier, bien sûr, vous faites partie de cette. à quoi dois-je la faveur?"* Threnadier's response was as frightening as it was surprising. "Coupons la merde, je sais que vous parlez anglais. N'est-ce pas, R?"*

 _No one who wasn't a part of the Les Amis called him by that nickname_.

He straightened to the best of his ability considering his injuries and the chains holding him in place and fixed Threnadier with his coldest, most assessing glare, more than a little pleased when the scum backed up automatically.

"Fine. What do you want?"

Threnadier smirked and leaned forward. "What we want is simple Grantaire. We want justice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mr. Threnadier, of course you're part of this. To what do I owe the pleasure?
> 
> Cut the crap, I know that you speak English. Isn't that right, R?
> 
> Please note that he is speaking in English at this point, and that Threnadier is unaware that he speaks Norwegian, or that the Lothbroks speaks English.


	9. Chapter 9

Grantaire scoffed, and watched as Threnadier's beady eyes narrowed in hate. "Justice?" he spat back. "You call imprisoning innocents and torturing me in front of them _justice_? I'd hate to bear witness to what you might call a crime Threnadier."

"Scoff all you like R, but you of all people should know that Ragnar and Legartha Lothbrok are _far_ from innocent. After all, you're quite involved in their...deviant...lifestyle."

At that, chills ran up his spine, and the calm, Catholic part of him named Athelstan joined Grantaire at the forefront of the conversation.

"I call upon your...dubious sense of right and wrong Monsieur. You may not approve of their lifestyle, but they have children, as you do."

"Ah, but I know exactly how deeply one's children can become involved in one's life in crime. After all, you have met Eponine and Gavroche have you not?"

Grantaire felt rage fill his entire being, and he fixed Threnadier with such a cold look that the man actually recoiled away from his screen. 

"I swear, if you've done something to them-"

"Oh it's far too late for that, R. After all, how do you think I found out where you are? Eponine was surprisingly reluctant to give up your location, but after I applied the right amount of pressure."

No.

"No!" he screamed, thrashing as best he could in his bonds. "NO!"

"Yes, yes, do tell the man about how you tortured your own daughter." came an unfamiliar bored voice from behind Threnadier, who jerked upright and went pale. "I tire of hearing your gabble _dog._ " With that, the Skype call disconnected abrubtly, only to resume five minutes later, an unfamiliar man's face filling the screen, which seemed to be flecked with blood.

"Now R, you are going to tell me everything you know about the Barricade boys, or your friend's the Lothbroks will find themselves dead, like our mutual acquaintance Monsieur Threnadier. At the end of our discussion, should it please me, I may even let them go. If not..." he trailed off, and shrugged carelessly. "I'm sure you can imagine what I might do."


	10. Sort of a chapter?

"Why are they doing this to him?" asked Bjorn shakily as he watched his uncle hit the Priest again.

"Why?" said his mother distantly, her face pinched. "Men like this- they hardly need a _reason_ Bjorn."

This was the only truth about the whole situation to be spoken until Grantaire had the opportunity presented to him by Rollo telling Skype Guy that he needed sleep Godsdammit, and the proceedings were called to an end for all except one guard who sat out the door. If they whispered, he couldn't hear, and the room had no cameras save the one used for the Skype call. 

"Y'know th' stories Priestly Me tol'? " he slurred, eyes unfocused."Th' ones 'bout th' Barr-" he broke off, coughing sharply. "Barricade boys?"

"Yeah," said Da, a bit of understanding lacing through his voice, though Bjorn had no clue _what_ exactly he understood- and he could tell Gyda didn't either. For a bit, all they heard from the bleeding man on the chair were his wheezing breaths and his blood dripping on the floor.

"They're true," he finally said, seeming to have drawn some strength somehow. "Though we're really known as the Children of the Barricade."

Da whistled softly, sounding impressed. "The Children of the Barricade? I've heard of that crew- nasty business, that Massacre after LaMarc's death. Wait. Were you...?"

The Priest's voice was grim "Oh yes. I was there. We learned a hard lesson that day- I learned that even after I got _shot in the head_ , my boyfriend- and some may say cult leader- _still_ didn't give a shit about me, or any of the others fortunate enough to survive. So when given the opportunity to leave and become someone new, I _had_ to take it. I hadn't counted on meeting any of you though. Really should've, what with my horrible inclination for having seemingly perfectly good relationships blow up in my face." He paused again, blinking slugishly. "I'll get you out of here." he said firmly. "Or they will. _Some_ of us will get out of here alive- and hopefully _all_ of you will be in that number." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am no longer entirely certain _how_ to continue this chapter. I want to bring Enjolras in, I want to bring the villain in...any who, this has been sitting on my desktop for the longest time, and y'all have been _very_ patient so: I'm calling for a vote. What do you want to see, villain or rescue?


End file.
